


Playing Fair

by eirabach



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Precious, Prompt Fic, Smut adjacent, Teasing, pen and in week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27417271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirabach/pseuds/eirabach
Summary: They don't often have time for this.[Pen and Ink + Precious for day three of pen and ink week on tumblr]
Relationships: Penelope Creighton-Ward/Gordon Tracy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Playing Fair

There isn’t often time for this.

Not between rescues and royal premieres, not with four brothers and two fathers and a dog and a Parker lingering around every corner and threatening to pop, fully formed and wide eyed, from any given comm unit at any given moment.

They’re used to -- well. Making the most of the odd moments given to them, that’s all. And it isn’t that she’s complaining, not at all, not for a moment, but although contorting herself in the back of a Thunderbird at 60 fathoms deep brings its own particular thrill, there’s really something to be said for a very large bed with a very soft duvet and the company of a very willing man with a _very_ willing mouth.

Too willing, possibly. 

“I didn’t think you were being _literal_.”

Gordon’s mouth curls into a grin, and he nips at the skin of her ankle. She jumps, shoving at his shoulder with the foot he isn’t holding.

“I’m a very literal kinda guy.” He shifts infinitesimally higher, drops another open mouthed kiss to the inside of her calf. “Plus, I’ve been waiting like -- _forever_ to do this, okay? Let me work.”

Penelope groans and throws her arm over her face. “You’ve been waiting forever. To kiss my leg.”

“Not _just_ your leg.”

She huffs into her elbow, wraps her free leg around his shoulders and digs her heel in.

“You genuinely intend to kiss me all over? Won’t that get tiresome.”

He grins up at her, flutters his lashes like the absolute terror that he is. “Oh I think I can handle it.”

“I didn’t mean for _you_.”

“Aw.” He pouts, and she digs her heel in harder. “Is her Ladyship not getting her own way?”

"Don't make me beg. I won't do it you know."

She can feel his laugh chase the tip of his tongue along the hollow behind her knee. "Oh really?"

"Oh _really_. Countless nefarious types have tried, darling."

He shifts his weight, his hand at her hip, and she tucks her arm behind her head. Glares down at him as he rests his chin on her thigh and flutters his eyelashes at her.

"Bet they're not as nefarious as me."

"I shall get up and leave in a minute."

Gordon pouts, drops his cheek against her hip bone and walks his fingers up until she's practically shaking with frustrated desire and just sheer frustration.

"Aw don't spoil my fun, Pen. Look --" He jumps up, dropping her leg as he does so, and leans forward to rest his fingertips against her ribs. She pouts back at him, but his grin only gets wider. “I can stop?”

“I didn’t say -- hey!” She squirms as he runs his nails lightly over the dip of her waist. “Oh! No, that’s unfair you know I’m ticklish!”

“Do I?” He stops, catching hold of a flailing arm, and presses a kiss to the inside of her elbow. “See, I don’t know that I _did_ know that. Was it in the papers? An expose on Lady Penelope’s deepest, _darkest_ secrets?”

She huffs, settling back into the mattress as he kisses down her forearm. “Hardly.”

“Good.” He pauses his ministrations to turn her hand palm up in his own, and traces her life line with the tip of his ring finger. “Know why?”

He runs his finger around her palm in little circles, eyebrows drawn tight as though the action requires every ounce of his concentration and her breath catches in her throat.

“Not the foggiest,” she murmurs as his mouth follows his fingers and creeps up toward the thin skin of her wrist. “Shall you tell me, or am I to suffer this torture in silence?”

His laugh is a soft breeze across sensitive skin. “You think this is torture?”

“I may be being facetious.”

“I _may_ not know what that means.”

“ _Gordon_.”

“Yes?” The kiss he drops to her wrist is hot and open mouthed, the hint of tongue a cruel little tease that she would protest if she could.

“What _are_ you doing this for?”

He shrugs one shoulder before dropping her wrist to nose at her collarbone.

“Do you know when I fell in love with you?”

“Not precisely.” His teeth graze the hollow of her throat and she digs her heel in tighter. 

“Me neither.” It’s a confession made against the rise of her breast, chased by the tip of a tongue against sensitive flesh. “Only -- god. God, _Penny_. Do you have any idea how long I’ve --”

He groans against her belly button as she winds her hand into his hair. A little victory.

“You’ve got a freckle.” He rubs the pad of his thumb against the edge of her hip bone. “Right here. Did you know?”

She says nothing, only shakes her head, because he’s kissing her with purpose now, hands coming up under her knees and pushing them apart, breath hot against damp skin, and she tightens her grip until she feels him shudder.

“God but you’re _perfect_.” It’s a whisper, less than that, something she feels more than hears, her blood hot and his mouth hotter. And she doesn’t want to ask -- not now, not when he’s finally -- _finally_ \--

The bastard looks up, grins.

That _bastard_.

“W-what are you _doing_?”

“I’m not finished yet.” He’s grinning up at her like the cat that got the cream, calloused fingers stroking the ticklish spots behind her knees. “Are you ticklish here too? You look kinda unhappy, should I stop? Maybe here?” He traces his fingers up, up, only to stop to draw patterns into the juncture of hip and thigh. “What do you think?”

Penelope takes a deep breath. Smiles.

“I think you’ve forgotten something.”

“Oh?” He taps his lips, smug and sweetly unsuspecting. “I can’t possibly --”

It’s easy. Only a twist, the arch of a back, the flinging of her weight to one side and then -- _yes_ , _perfect_. Gordon blinks up at her, with eyes blown wide with lust and surprise, as she sits on his chest, her knees now pinning his arms to his sides and her smile promising a vengeance that oh, she is going to _enjoy_.

“Turnabout is fair play.”


End file.
